


The next 48 Hours

by FateNowLiesDownYonderPath



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 15:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13216758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FateNowLiesDownYonderPath/pseuds/FateNowLiesDownYonderPath
Summary: An almost love letter, shampoo and soft furnishings.





	The next 48 Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third part to 'Name calling' & 'Surveillance 101'.   
> These were entered under an Orphan account, before I was able to create my own. I suggest you read these first if you haven't already.   
> This series of events between Robin and Cormoran have been vivid in my head for so long, that I felt the need to share.  
> This is where the inevitable finally happens.

Strike: Chapter 3. All Good Things

Robin woke to the sounds of London. The beeping of a truck reversing down what she imagined to be a narrow side street, an ambulance siren off in the distance and the hum of commuters passing on the side walk below. The air looked crisp on the other side of her temporary window, despite the patches of blue sky.

She had slept deeply. But now she was very much awake. Her mind mirrored the sky outside, some parts were cloudy but others were exceptionally clear. She sat up, clasped one hand in the other and raised them above her head to stretch. As she rotated her neck from right to left, she spotted a note on the desk. Knowing the note would be from Cormoran, brought forward a range of emotions. Would the note be full of regrets, or would it be purely work related?

Robin skimmed over the events of the previous night, the softness in his voice, the sounds of pleasure from them both. The sensations, not only the way he gripped her with the perfect amount of pressure, not just the way his large hands had caressed her but how it had felt for her to touch him, hold him, wrap herself around him. God how she had loved kissing him, there was so much passion, it was the most erotic kiss she had ever experienced

A clatter of bins outside interrupted Robins recollections. She blinked a few times and rubbed her hands over her face. Right, time to focus, she said to herself out loud as she sat up straighter. 

Before Robin could read the note, she knew there was one thing she must do first because no matter what was in the note it wouldn't affect the other outcome.  
Propped up against the soft pillows, she reached for the one Cormoran had used, when he had curled up next to her. She brought it to her face and inhaled deeply. It was a familiar smell and for her, a comforting one. Robin clutched the pillow tight to her as she scrolled through the messages she'd received from Matthew.

They varied from, regrets, I'm sorries, desperation, frustration and lastly, threats, "If you sleep with him, we're done." Robin wrote one reply to cover them all. She typed the message free from guilt. 'Matthew, please accept that my decision is final. I can no longer be with you, there's no way it could work out for us now. Please understand that moving forward, this is no longer about you or what you want, this is about me and what I want for my future. Let's just make it as amicable as possible. What's done is done.' SEND.

The moment Robin hit send, she jumped out of bed to read Cormoran's note. Holding the paper between her fingers, Robin was touched that he'd taken the time to write a note, rather than his customary method of communication, a brief text message.

Instantly her heart melted. His first three words were, 'Good morning beautiful.' Robin studied the three words, her hand pressed against her cheek, grinning from ear to ear.  
She pictured him sitting in this very chair, looking at her as she slept. She wondered if he struggled to put the words to paper or if they came easily for him.

As it happens, Strike had struggled to write the words. He's sat there with pen in hand for at least five minutes before writing those first three words. He could have sent a text but he wanted this to feel personal. He thought back to a statement he'd made to Robin when she'd rescued him from a drunken tirade, 'What happened to love letters?' This wouldn't be a proper love letter but he knew that she'd appreciate the sentiment, he also knew that these words were better written.

Robin re read those first three words several times over before moving on, it read:  
Whatever feelings you've woken to today, know that I have no regrets. Thankyou for being open with me. I'm here to support you in any decisions you make for your future. There's no need to feel awkward when we see each other, I respect you both as a partner and for the exceptional woman that you are.   
I'll follow up on the surveillance from last night and there are some other errands I need to run. I'll leave the details on your desk. This is not me avoiding you in any way, just work. I've done a scope on the area and there's no sign of Bennie man.  
I've reserved another night for you here, just in case you need it while you work things out. Let Henry know if you decide otherwise.  
Please call or text when you've read through the files on your desk, just so we're not covering the same things twice.  
See you soon   
Take care   
C xx  
Cormoran xx

Robin read the note through again. It was everything she expected from Cormoran plus more. He was tactful, not condescending, reassuring and sweet.  
She looked at the watch on her wrist, smiled, stood up, gathered her shower things and felt confident in starting a new day.

When Strike wrote 'Scoped the place', that entailed, reviewing the camera footage, sending the image to DI Wardle and strongly requesting an under cover be placed outside. He called Shanker, not to hire him for his services but if he happened to be in the area, to keep an eye, payment would come from any useful information and lastly a walk around the area looking for Bennie Man.  
By the time he had written his note to Robin and extended her stay, there was an undercover car parked up the road.

Strike felt he had done all he could to assure Robins safety, short of staying with her until they left together. But if he were to stay, the 48 hours which he had asked her to take to consider if she really wanted to take their relationship beyond friendship, would have been squashed. He had stayed with her 'til early morning, with only the bed coverings between them. He'd slept deep and calm, feeling her warmth beside him. He had woken happy and content.

It had taken him a good few minutes to put pen to paper. Watching her sleep was captivating. Her golden hair flowed against the crisp white pillows, her lips in a slight pout. His mind wandered back to the previous night, he'd never expected Robin to be so intensely passionate. He wondered if this had been just for him or if she was the same with Matthew. Either pure denial or self-preservation, he wanted to think it was just with him. Strike started to re live some of the moments in his mind; the hunger in their kiss, her tongue deep in his mouth, the delightful moan she made as his hands slid up her thighs. The sight of her lying in front of him, blouse open, his body tucked into hers, he vividly remembered her heat as he pressed himself against her.   
YEP time to go. He couldn't even risk giving her a goodbye kiss. It was going to be a long, long, he looked at his watch, fuck, 40 hours minimum, at worst...nope, he didn't allow himself to think of never. 

Robin had enjoyed the longest shower she'd had in a while. Unfortunately, she hadn't had the hind sight to pack her usual shampoo and conditioner, so she had to use the All in One that was provided. She spent time shaving her legs and other areas that she wouldn't normally pay much attention to. She exfoliated with the loofah provided and left the shower feeling like a new woman. After getting dressed and looking in the mirror, that's when she saw the difference in herself. She felt like a woman, the explicit nature of the sensations she felt with Cormoran last night had flicked a switch in her. She felt sensual and confident, she could see it in her body language and she liked what she saw and how he made her feel. Horny, would be the most accurate description.

On her way to the tube station Robin made use of the shop windows to check if she was being followed. She had spotted a car on two separate occasions that looked suspiciously like undercover officers. She memorized the number plate before turning down a side street and noting it in her phone. She had been using the reflection in one particular window, waiting to see if the car followed, when a shop assistant popped her head out the door.

"Is there something you'd like to try? We don't bite you know." Robins automatic response was "Oh, no, it's okay, I'm just looking." She had only just noticed that it was a lingerie store. She felt a slight blush come to her cheeks. She took a closer look inside, "on second thought." She said to the assistant "Why not."

Meanwhile back in the office Strike had been pacing. Every single bit of paper on both his and Robins desk had been straightened and re straightened. Pens were all neatly positioned and he had read his case file three times over, but he may as well not have read it at all, nothing was sticking. Fuck it, he grumbled to himself, you’re been a fucking idiot, she'll be here when she gets here. He put his hand into his pocket for the hundredth time checking that he had the shopping list he'd made out earlier. Christ, when was the last time I actually wrote out a shopping list, he thought, once more checking his pocket. 

He was six steps down the flight of stairs when he heard the outer door of the building close, the familiar sound of the glass rattling within its frame. His heart started beating a bit faster. He stopped where he was as Robin started to ascend the stairs toward him. Love, god it fucks with your mind. She looked so radiant, would it be wrong to have sex on the staircase, yes, yes it would. He finally managed to close his mouth from gaping and re open it again to form a sentence.

"Ah, Robin, I'm glad I caught you." He was proud of himself that he'd been able to sound nonchalant.   
"Well as we're on these stairs, so am I." She looked back at the treacherous void below and with humor, reenacted their very first encounter.  
Strike gave a slight laugh at her dramatization. "God, that seems like a life time ago." His voice reminiscent. Their eyes locked.

Robin had to break their gaze before she gave into her desire to step up to him and show him precisely how thankful she was. "Umm, have you spoken to Wardle today?" She asked flippantly "I think there's an undercover tailing me."  
"&... that's exactly why I'm glad I caught you." He knew it was bullshit, he was just hanging around the office hoping to see her, but he’ll go with it now. “We’ll both have undercover keeping an eye on us for the next day or so, depending, I just didn’t want you to worry”.

“Oh, thanks.” She said rushing past him. 

“Is that new perfume you’re wearing?” The words had left his mouth before he could stop them. 

She spun on the stairs to look at him, suddenly in a state of panic, she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She was well aware that she’d been having erotic thoughts of them together for most of the morning, she had not only looked at lingerie but had made a purchase. Oh dear god, can he smell me? Robin stood there, her mouth opened to speak but then quickly shut again. She clutched at her hand bag tucking the pink straps from the carry bag holding her purchase out of sight. Thankfully Strike spoke again.

“Sorry that was a dick head thing for me to say.” Shut the fuck up Cormoran he shouted in his own head. “It’s quite floral… I… I just noticed”. Jesus Christ I’ve made her blush, more than blush, she’s speechless.

“Floral?” Robin managed to repeat, more to herself than to Cormoran. And then it twigged, she gathered up a length of hair and held it to her nose. “Oh… it was from my shower earlier, I didn’t bring my own shampoo, so I had to use theirs.” She could feel her cheeks returning to normal, meanwhile, she had noticed a slight flush in his. She gave a little smirk and headed to the office. “Good luck out there today, I’ll see you later.” And her voice disappeared into the office.

“Right, yeah, okay.” He called back. You’re a right tit MR Cormoran Strike, he said scolding himself. Thank fuck he was able to refrain from asking what she had in her bag. He’d seen the gloss white of a small carry bag with bright pink handles hidden in her work bag but couldn’t for the life of him place the store. This was not the detective work he should be thinking about. He got about 20 yards down the foot path before he stopped and lent against a wall. He reached into his inner pocket & plucked out the most important tools an investigator can carry, his pen and note book. Slipping the note book back but retaining the pen he reached for the all-important shopping list and added Shampoo & Conditioner.

After three hours of traipsing the streets of London, following up some leads, that essentially lead nowhere, Strike found himself down the Bath & Beauty Isle of a Tesco Extra. He had popped the lid of at least ten shampoo bottles, giving each one a light squeeze, looking for something that resembled Robins usual soft sent. Finally, he hit the jackpot, he squeezed the bottle a bit firmer the second time, a smile plastered across his face. He picked up the accompanying conditioner and added them to the trolley. Even though the shopping list was printed on his brain, he still felt it necessary to hold the list in his hand. Onto the Homewares department, he was on his way there when some cushions caught his eye and before he had even registered what he had done, cushions had joined the shampoo and conditioner in his trolley.  
By the time he had chosen sheets and a duvet cover, scented candles had made their way in the somehow too. Strike looked at the contents of his trolley and conceded that he was fucked, he had fallen in love, way beyond his wildest expectations. Who the fuck buys cushions? He asked himself. With a heavy sigh, he turned his thoughts to food. Six isles in, he concluded that he knew bugga all about grocery shopping and picked up some ready meals and… strawberries, he couldn’t bring himself to by cream, that was just a bit too cliché. After all strawberries were just strawberries… until they weren’t.  
Placing the items on the conveyor belt, doing a mental tally of the bill Strike made a conscious decision to ask for a receipt, just in case the next 30 hours goes tits up.

The day had ticked past slowly. Darkness had crept into the afternoon sky bringing with it heavy clouds and the threat of a storm. This at least would give him an excuse to have candles spotted around his ultra cozy apartment. Over a beer or two, Strike had shifted around the few pieces of furniture he had, trying to make the most of such a small space. He remembered having one other duvet cover, which he placed over the old farting couch, he tucked in the edges and placed the cushions on it. After a great deal of time faffing about, Strike sat down heavily in his favorite chair and took a long pull on his beer. He looked around at his changed surroundings and for the first time today he felt as though he had achieved something. His eyes were drawn to the ridiculous purchase of cushions, and it dawned on him how they had managed to come home with him and now took pride of place on the covered sofa. Mingled through the white and grey were flecks of strawberry gold, the same colour of Robins hair. How on earth am I going to make it through tomorrow, he asked himself. Maybe I’ll just get drunk tonight and sleep through most of tomorrow. It’s possibly the cheapest option, otherwise I may find myself pondering why I made the decision to buy a mahogany dining table. Visions of Robin from the previous night, flooded his mind. Great and now I’m horny. And it wasn’t for the first time today, try as he might, to focus on the job, Strike’s mind had drifted to Robin on many occasions, seemingly innocent, innocuous objects, things that he’d read, songs that he’d heard wandering in and out of shops, had made his crotch ache. So now, in his comfy chair, beer in hand, he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift to the glorious details that he had etched into his memory. He felt himself begin to swell against his boxers. But a knock on his door, shut everything down quick smart.

Although Robin had asserted this new air of confidence, she had to admit to herself that she was a wee bit nervous as she stood on the landing outside Cormoran's apartment. She slipped her slightly higher than normal, heals back on her feet, after ascending the stairs bare foot, hoping for an element of surprise, and smoothed down her navy, light weight, ankle length trench coat. She took in three deep breaths as she counted down the remaining ten seconds on her watch. Three, Two One… she gave a firm and purposeful knock. 

Strike opened his door, he was delightfully surprised to see Robin standing there. She looked an absolute vision, and a certain look in her, brighter than he remembered them, blue eyes. “Robin?” Not being able to hide the surprise in his voice, or the smile on his face. He looked at his watch “Ah, come in.” He stood to the side and gestured with his arm to welcome her. But Robin didn’t move.

“Cormoran?” She said his name firm but delicate. Her gaze penetrating deep into his. “It’s been 48 hours since I removed my engagement ring. So, just so we’re clear, inviting me over this threshold, is to accept the inevitable.”

Strike studied her carefully, he could see no hesitation in her eyes, no insecurities, just a strong, confident, exquisite woman. Fuck, it took all his strength, to take a small step back to open the door a bit further, firmly holding his tongue back behind his teeth, as appose to stepping onto the landing with her and allowing his mouth to engorge her. 

She entered silently, brushing her hand down his arm as she passed. He closed the door, keeping his back to her, hoping that he could tame the ever- increasing bulge in his trousers before he faced her again. “Cup of tea?” He offered trying to ignore the shakiness of his own voice.

“Why don’t we start where we left off?” He heard the seduction in her voice, he hadn’t even turned to see her, yet he could feel himself growing weak in the knees. 

Robin had hung her trench on the hook behind the door, her new purchase, midnight blue, lace and satin fabric, cupped her breasts then hung softly just under her backside. She had just managed to replicate the same position on his dining table as the previous night, when she had guided him into her, before he turned around to acknowledge her request.

“Fucking Christ!” In the three, small step that it took for him to reach her, he was bone solid. Trying to be as gentle as possible, he grabbed the back of her head and brought her lips to his. She felt just as he remembered, if not hungrier. He slid his hand up her smooth leg, from knee to thigh, spreading the girth of his hand he slid over her hip to her waist, the soft fabric covering his arm as he embraced her nakedness under his firm fingers. He’d felt Robin make short work of his shirt buttons and pull it back off his shoulders, but he needed to release the cuff buttons before he could remove his arms. A firm tug on each sleeve, popped the buttons and the shirt fell to the floor. Reluctantly he let one hand leave her as he fumbled with the belt on his trousers. She moaned softly against his lips, which didn’t help his efforts.

Robin had already exceeded the bounds of her own expectations, she hadn’t been sure if she was brave enough to go through with the erotic thoughts and fantasies that had been with her all day. She had never felt so in control yet in the same breath, out of control. She was determined to allow herself to be sensual, to do things that she’d never dream of doing, before today, things that she wanted to explore with Cormoran. While he was struggling with his belt, she let her fingers slip between her thighs, she was so wet, that she only needed to press her fingers against herself to coat them in her silky wetness. She released her kiss from him, touching her coated fingers to his lower lip and sighed a deep moan in his ear. She felt his tongue swirl around her fingers and she pushed them deeper into his mouth. He sucked on them hungrily. “FUCK” He moaned loudly. She could feel him wanting to push her back on the table to lower himself down onto her but she clung firmly to the back of his head bringing his mouth back to hers. She could taste herself on his lips and on his tongue as she drove her tongue deeper into his mouth. 

Together they removed his boxers. He felt her moist fingers curl around his cock, sliding up and down his length, no doubt, sizing up her new discovery. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, savoring the sensation. He felt her ankles clasp around his bum as she pulled him toward her. He hesitated for just a fraction, the tip of his cock sliding against her entrance. She placed her free hand to the side of his face, he opened his eyes to find himself looking into hers. “We’re safe, we don’t need to use anything.” She said, her voice pleading “I just need you inside me.” Then it changed to a deeper primal instruction. “Fuck me Cormoran, fuck me hard and don’t hold back.” With that said, Robin laid back on his table, her hands gripping the table above her head for leverage, kicked off her shoes and put her heels on the table, lifting her hips for him. 

For Strike, all five senses were at their peak. The sound of her voice, her moan, encouraging him to push deeper, the smell of their sex, the taste of her on his lips, the sight of her before him, the pleasure on her face, her breasts swaying to every thrust, her erect nipples visible through the lace and touch, his arms wrapped around her bent legs, as he drove himself into her, her tight warmth swallowing the full length of him as his firm balls slapped against her. He wasn’t sure he would last much longer; these feelings were too overwhelming. 

Robin shifted her grip from the top of the table, to clasp her hands around his thick muscular forearms. Her head had started to swim with longing and pure ecstasy, she couldn’t believe what was happening, he was bringing her to orgasm, something, she’d not been capable of during penetration, she’d thought for all these years that there was something wrong inside of her, that she was broken. She was shocked, delighted and emotional, all in one. She dug her fingers into Strikes forearm, unable to control the rest of her body convulsing, her back arched and her thighs quivered. “Ooooohhhhhh god, bloody hell, fuck Cormoran, I’m coming!” She wrapped her legs around him, controlling the speed and depth of his thrusts. 

Strike let her guide him. He could see the buildup in her face, the elation and release as her pleasure flooded through her. He was more than content to wait ‘til later for his own release. He held all movement, watching in awe as his partner shuddered and squirmed in front of him. He had been so close to coming himself, but was more than pleased that she’d beat him to it, if not only to experience the delight in her eyes: a sight that he was sure to have missed in the grips of his own orgasm. He held as still as possible, feeling the muscles flex in his forearms as her fingernails bruised delightfully into him.

Slowly, Robin released her grip on his arms, conscious of the damage the pressure of her fingers and the abrasions her nails would have caused, she attempted to rub out the imprints with the palm of her hand. “Christ Cormoran, I’m sorry, I bet I’ve left bruises.” He gently placed his hands upon hers, “Fuck, don’t apologize, I’ll be more than happy to carry the reminder for a day or two.” He let the backs of his fingers trace down the length of her thighs, turning his hands over to hold her hips. He could hardly believe that he was holding the woman who had been invading his dreams for the past year or more, before last night, they had barely touched; he had succumb to his weakness once or twice, allowing his hand to brush against her arm, his fingers hovering above hers for a fraction too long, so that she could surely feel the heat emanating from them, or creating a scenario which would have them arm in arm, posing as a couple for the briefest of moments, but now his true feelings had been released, raw and true, he had nothing to hide behind, he was an open book and he wanted so much for her to see the love that was pouring from him, to read the conviction in his eyes.

Thinking he was doing what was right, he started to remove himself from her. Yes, he was reluctant to do so, but with what had just happened between them, he didn’t think it would be too long before they would give in to their hunger for passion once more. 

Robin clung onto him, wrapping her ankles around him, “And where do you think you’re going, MR Cormoran Strike?” She could feel him solid inside her. She used her legs to pull him into her, then released him a little to pull back before encouraging another thrust. “It’s okay, the question was a rhetorical one. We’re not quite done here.” Strike didn’t need much persuading, he started to slide in and out, building to a steady rhythm. He would have been happy to stay at this pace, allowing himself to slowly build to climax, hoping to bring Robin with him, but he had totally under estimated her competitive spirit, her own determination to bring him to finish. Her voice had such a profound effect on him, resistance was futile. She raised her hips again, thrusting into him. “I can feel my heat oozing over you.” She moaned as she arched her back, tilting her head back, exposing the long length of her neck. She ran her fingers from her forehead, down her face, folding down her bottom lip before tracing down her neck and grabbing a firm hold of her left breast. “I want you to cum, deep inside me. I want to feel you pulse and throb as I clench around you.” They were the last words he heard before he did exactly that.

“FUCK! Robin FUCK!” Four solid hard thrusts to drain a full day of frustration and anticipation into her. Strike semi collapsed onto her, upon his flimsy old, 1990s table. He lay there, his head resting on her chest, struggling to come to grips at the ease of which she had managed to push him over the edge. 

With a hum of satisfaction Robin lifted his head and found his lips, she kissed him passionately, leaning herself into him, until she was sitting up, her body pressed against his. With a long sigh of contentment, Robin leaned back and looked at the newly decorated surroundings. She looked deep into his blue eyes…

“Did you buy cushions?”


End file.
